


The Sheriff Meets the Pack

by LaBelleetlaloup



Series: Rebuilding the Hale House [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Isaac is the baby, Jydia, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Pack Dynamics, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Scallison, berica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:19:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3984721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleetlaloup/pseuds/LaBelleetlaloup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sheriff knew that he wasn't as close to his daughter as he used to be. He did not realize quite how much he had missed. What is she talking about furnishing a house for? And why doesn't he know the names of her friends? Also, what's with the way Derek is looking at his daughter? And he had been happy about the prospect of an afternoon off unexpectedly...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sheriff Meets the Pack

He had finally figured out where Stiles was when she said she was spending the day with friends, but only because one of his deputies had told him he’d seen her Jeep at the old Hale place while on patrol. It may have gone through the grapevine that contractors had been taking all sorts of stuff up to the place and the only adult Hale left had bought the place back from the county, presumably to rebuild, but the Sheriff still was not prepared for the imposing stone edifice lurking behind the trees. It looked like one of those old plantation houses from the Deep South: strong and wealthy and knowingly superior. Really, it fit with who the Hales had been before the fire. They had been the wealthiest and oldest family around, but now there was only Peter, Derek and Cora and this huge house was entirely unnecessary. As he stepped out of his patrol car, having come from the station, he could hear voices in the backyard. It was as good a place as any to look. He could see his daughter’s jeep amongst the parked cars, including a Camaro and a Porsche! and he thought he heard Scott in the backyard, protesting something.

“Stiles?” he called out as he came around the corner of the house to find Stiles sitting with a couple other teenage girls he vaguely recognized: the Argent girl, the Martin girl, the Hale girl, and the blonde girl was the one that used to have that seizure condition, he thought. There was a pile of boys rough-housing in front of them. All in all, it was not unusual, but what was were the five normal size houses tucked behind the giant house. The girls were reclining in patio chairs on the front porch of one of them and Peter Hale was looking on in amusement from one of the others.

“Daddy!” Stiles called out amiably, “It’s not past curfew already, is it? It’s still daylight!”

“No, I just wanted to check in. I got the afternoon off and I’ve barely seen you all week between one thing and another,” he admitted.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Stilinski,” Scott piped up. One of the other lacrosse players beside him spoke up too, it was the curly-haired one that had called Stiles “Momma” at the last game.

“Pleasure to see you again, Sheriff,” he was quietly polite. This must be the same Lahey boy that Derek and Peter had taken in when the abuse scandal was discovered.

Derek only nodded at him from the middle of the boys, standing, perhaps coincidently perhaps not, between him and his daughter, “Sheriff.”

“Lovely place,” he commented, for something to say. “It looks like you did a lot of hard work, Mr. Hale.” Peter acknowledged him, striding forward to greet him.

“I certainly paid for a lot of hard work,” Peter concurred amusedly, catching the Sheriff wrong-footed. Stiles glanced at Derek, he noticed, before speaking up.

“How about we break up this supposed lacrosse practice and I can show you the house before supper while the boys get cleaned up?” his daughter was still looking to the older man for permission.

“That sounds fine,” Derek nodded, “Go on, boys, go rinse off, at least. The girls don’t want to smell our sweat over supper.”

“We certainly don’t,” the Martin girl averred, was her name Lydia? giving the Whittemore boy, Jackson, surely, a pointed look. How did he not even know the names of his daughter’s friends?

“Oh, you know you love it,” Jackson leered at the girl teasingly, trying to hug her. Lydia darted behind the blonde girl to hide.

“Come on, Jackson,” Scott chuckled.

“I’ll protect you, Lydia,” Peter spoke up. Three heads whipped round to face him, three voices snapped his name warningly and three arms reached towards the Lahey boy, Isaac: Derek, Stiles and Jackson.

“Go get dinner started, uncle,” Derek continued, glaring until the older man disappeared around the other corner of the house, presumably to enter through a kitchen door. Wasn’t that an enlightening and possibly concerning turn of events? Scott’s girlfriend, Allison, wrapped an arm around Lydia and they all moved en masse towards the front door. Isaac wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and Derek’s hand came to rest on Isaac’s shoulder. It seemed protective, the way they flanked him.

“Momma, can I show him around with you?” Isaac asked quietly, looking up at her. Stiles grinned at him, ruffling his hair as she nodded.

“Course you can, you’re my favorite,” she replied and kissed his cheek. Derek was smiling down at the pair, while Scott scowled good-naturedly back at Stiles. Derek’s younger sister looked a little irritated at the rest of them.

“We all know he’s your favorite,” Scott whined teasingly, “No need to rub it in, Stiles.”

“You’re just jealous,” Stiles brushed it off with a flip of her head, “You wish you were awesome enough to be my favorite.”

“You’re my favorite, Scott,” Allison consoled him, exchanging a laughing glance with Stiles.

“Voila, the grand entrance!” Stiles announced as they made it to the front door. “It’s more than a bit imposing, isn’t it?” Was that pride in his daughter’s voice? Why would she… Was she dating Derek Hale? How old was this man, anyway, other than too old? He hadn’t really worried about it after Derek had reassured him regarding his lack of intentions almost two years ago, but perhaps he ought to have.

“It certainly makes an impression,” he agreed.

“Pick a bathroom, any bathroom, except mine, and go get cleaned up,” Derek ordered, gently pushing at the boys. He let Isaac stay by Stiles’ side. Jackson, Scott and the quiet black teenager, God only knew what his name was, ran off upstairs to comply.

“Let’s start in the den!” the blonde girl suggested.

“I second Erica’s proposal,” Lydia stated.

“Motion carried,” Stiles announced with a laugh, “On to the fancy den.” She reached out and caught his sleeve in one hand, tugging him along like she used to do when she was little while her other arm was still wrapped around Isaac. They passed an ornate wooden door and he found himself in a large, peaceful living room. There were large windows with lots of sunlight streaming in, and a huge fireplace and more than plenty seating. Stiles was right. It was fancy. The three other girls claimed their spots on the frankly giant sectional dominating the seating area.

“It is a little overwhelming at first sight, isn’t it?” Derek gestured at the sectional.

“Well, Peter and I found it neglected in the corner at the giant furniture store down by the ice rink and it wanted someone to take it home and we needed to get big furniture that wouldn’t be dwarfed by the size of the room,” Stiles let her mouth run. “Of course, I’m just glad I talked Peter out of basing the whole room off that heinously outdated armchair he took a fancy to. He bought it anyway, but it’s at least in the basement with the rest of the stuff that didn’t really go anywhere, instead of out here molesting everyone’s eyes.” He knew he must be staring, but his daughter had helped a grown man furnish a home and he had had no idea. He knew they had been growing apart, but how much had he really missed?

“Come on, let’s show him the library, Momma,” Isaac spoke up quietly. Stiles grinned at him.

“Too right,” she nodded, leading the way out of the room. “Peter had too much fun with the pretentious door, but I totally agree that libraries need to be special.” It was the ornate wooden door they had passed that she opened. There were floor to ceiling bookshelves, somehow all stuffed with books and the floor crowded with chairs and side tables.

Somehow she led him through the rest of the house chattering while he took it in without her noticing his discomfort. There was a story about basing the décor on a sofa in the office, a story about arguing with the contractors about the cabinets in the kitchen, a statement piece of a dining room table made out of a slab of wood long enough to make a canoe, all sorts of mismatched furniture in the finished basement, and different themes in each of the upstairs bedroom suites. Derek apparently had the master suite, while Peter was in one of the “cottages” out back, so they didn’t show the master beyond pointing it out. However, the nurseries in some of the bedrooms took him aback. They were all fully decorated. If his daughter’s stomach wasn’t so flat, he would have accused her of nesting. As it was, he was just confused. Apparently, she had even gotten a crib and changing table suit for Derek that was in the “hers” closet for the moment.

It was hardly as though he could miss the fondness that passed between Derek and his daughter as they interacted and doted on Isaac. He could not explain satisfactorily to himself their relationship: it wasn’t just friendship but it didn’t seem to have turned romantic, but it definitely was not a brotherly gaze Derek gave his daughter.

He somehow made it through dinner with all the teens, noting a few oddities. Every dish was offered first to Derek and the first bite was delayed until he began eating. Food also had a tendency to pass oddly around the table, reaching him at inconsistent intervals. A dish would be passed to Peter or Jackson or Stiles after Derek. Peter always offered to Stiles, Stiles offered to Isaac, and Jackson to Lydia. From there it would pass across and back and zigzag. It was as though there was some sort of complex social structure he was not privy to, though he had never seen the like among a group of teenagers. Some families would pass food in this way at large gatherings, he knew, and skipping over someone would be a deeply felt slight. He had not lasted much past Christmas with that girlfriend. Scott seemed to usually be last to get a dish, though it would get to him faster if Stiles got it from Derek because then Isaac passed to Scott, who offered to Allison, he noticed, though there was no snub in the way the others conversed with him.

Derek was mostly quiet, listening to the teenagers. Peter was mostly conversing with him, though he also would interrupt the other conversations with the typical reaction being an unimpressed glare. Stiles was attending to Isaac while chatting with everyone else. The black teenager finally spoke up, getting into a discussion with Allison about a school research assignment, and it seemed his name was Boyd. He and the blonde, Erica, seemed to be a couple. It also appeared that Scott and Allison were back together for the moment. Lydia and Jackson could have been a couple still but he wasn’t sure. They seemed like one of those married couples that were perfectly friendly to one another while both spouses were having extramarital affairs. Oddly enough, it did not seem to be awkward that Derek, Cora, Isaac, and Stiles were unpaired amongst the couples.

He took his leave soon after dinner, reminding Stiles to be home in time for curfew, a thousand thoughts swirling in his brain. Where and when had he lost sight of his little girl and who had she become while he was off being a workaholic? He kept finding himself circling back to that question and the knowledge that his wife would have been so disappointed in him for not knowing the answers.


End file.
